Archive
by EmilyCastrov
Summary: A collection of older oneshots, left here for a nice trip down memory lane. Chapters 5 and 6 were previously commissioned oneshots, but have since been moved to become their own entities.
1. Chinterra

The Answer

The Kyzil Plateau of Veldin is a beautiful place. The land is a mixture of golden sand and impressive rock formations made from all shades of orange. The vegetation is scarce, ranging from nearly dry patches of pale desert grass to the rare green cactus. The planet itself is a junkyard, evident by the large pieces of abandoned machinery littering the walkways. Some parts still have their silver, polished luster, while others have lay dormant for years, tarnishing and rusting from the rare desert storms. And the view at night? Absolutely breathtaking. White stars pepper the black night sky, and the moonlight reflects off of the planet's surface, blending the colors in a way that's indescribably wonderful.

At least, that's what Ratchet's been told all his life. He's never seen it.

Instead, Ratchet sits on a nearby chair, listening to his guardian finish restoring a customer's ship. Despite having been born without sight, he tries to comfort himself with the sounds of the garage that he calls home. The clicks, the whirrs, the ticks, each sound sits a little bit differently in his ears. _Maybe that's what color is like_.

"All done here, ma'am. Give me a call if that engine starts givin' ya trouble again."

"Thank you Grim, I appreciate the help."

"Glad to help."

Ratchet hears an exchange of bolts, then the dwindling footsteps and engine of the last customer of the day's departure. Next, there's the sound of the garage doors closing for the night.

"I'll start sweeping this place up."

Ratchet doesn't mind sweeping too much. The long broom in his hands acts as a cane, giving him a clear 'view' of his surroundings. If only he knew if things were actually getting clean. Large ears perk at a familiar voice.

"Hey, Ratchet, you alright? You seem kinda down today. Haven't said much."

"It's nothing, Grim."

"I know that face, there's something."

Of _course_ his face was betraying his words. He assumes that Grim is looking at him, worried for him.

"Well, nothing new anyway."

"Well, tell me anyway. If something's on your mind, you gotta say it. I'm not-"

"Not a mind reader, I know. I just...wish I could do _more_."

"It's been, uh, bugging you lately, huh?"

"Whenever I feel like I'm at peace with it, that's when it hits the hardest."

Grim stays silent, letting Ratchet continue.

"I can't walk in a straight line, even with a cane. I can't go _one day_ without bruising myself by smacking into stuff. I can't see _anything_._ I never have_."

Ratchet's voice cracks, and he loses his grip on his words.

"I've _never_ been able to watch the sunset. I've _never_ been able to see the stars. I've never even _seen your face_, or _my own face_, and I _never will_."

He's crying now, as much as he wishes he wasn't.

"I want to help people. I want to be like_ you_, a mechanic, and_ I can't_."

Grim holds him, comforting him as best as he possibly can. As Ratchet's sobs begin to dissipate, Grim speaks up.

"I think you can. Heck, I _know_ you can."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not. Ya' know that thing I always say? About steppin' back?"

"That sometimes stepping back from a problem will show you the angle to fix it?"

"_Bingo_. There's a reason I gave you the name Ratchet, ya know."

"Huh?"

"When you first came to me, I tried _everything_ to get you to stop crying. Food, changing, a nap, the works. _Nothing worked_. It was only when I gave up that I found the answer I was lookin' for."

Ratchet looks up at Grim, a light of curiosity in his clouded eyes.

"What was the answer?"

"Well, I set your basket on the workbench, and went back to the hoverbike I was workin' on for a second. You kept screamin' and screamin', until I got back to work. The tool I was usin' clicked as I tightened a bolt, and you stopped."

Ratchet sits with Grim, and that old advice suddenly makes sense.

"I couldn't believe it at first, so I tested you. I stopped workin', and you started cryin' again. I took out the tool and brought it closer to you. I spun it again, louder, longer. You started _giggling_."

Ratchet smiles at the thought, doing his best to imagine the scenario.

"Before you could talk, you would mimic that click when you wanted somethin' I hadn't guessed yet. When you started talkin', you always asked questions. And the answer I was lookin' for back then ended up being your name. The only thing that could calm the lombax kit in my garage."

'Ratchet'.._he was named after the answer_. He's always enjoyed listening to Grim work, but he never knew it was that deep seated. He yawns, previously unaware of how tired he must have been.

"Think about it, and get some rest, Ratchet. We've got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

Grim takes his hand, and Ratchet shuffles to his bed. He's out like a light in minutes.

...

The next morning, Ratchet certainly feels a lot better. The talk last night helped a lot, but that's not as important right now. Today's his 15th birthday! He grabs his cane, which Grim must have placed near his bed before he woke up, and greets his adopted father.

"Morning, Grim!"

"Good mornin' Ratchet. You certainly seem happy, and you should be. Come here, I got somethin' for ya."

Grim taps some sort of cardboard. There's something inside, but what?

"Aw, thanks Grim! What is it?"

"It's not what it _is_, it's what it's _gonna be_. And you're gonna help me build it."

"How?"

"I'll hand you the pieces, and describe what's gonna happen with 'em. You do the rest."

"Well, what's it gonna be?"

"I'll tell ya when it's done."

Ratchet gives a nod and a confident smile. The work begins as Grim places two parts in Ratchet's hands.

"Alright, we're gonna start with these two pieces here. If ya feel 'em, you'll find two notches that we're gonna stick together. Press 'em together, you'll hear a click."

Ratchet does so, and is rewarded with a satisfying _click_.

"Good. Let's keep going."

An hour later, each piece is bolted together, welded together by Grim when necessary, and the..thing is assembled, plugged into an outlet to charge. A nasty storm begins outside, and all the windows are closed off.

"Nice goin', Ratchet, it's almost ready. Just gotta turn it on and.._Oh no_."

Grim seems to open the mysterious device, closing it disappointed.

"What's wrong?"

"Sisterboard's not working for some reason. Must be faulty or somethin'. Can't go get another one right now either."

"Aw man, we worked hard on it too!"

"I know. As soon as the storm clears, I'll go out and get a replacement."

Ratchet tries his best to stifle his disappointment, and gets distracted by a roar of thunder.

"Whoa, that one was loud. Maybe we should unplug it?"

"Good thinking, we'll just-"

A bolt of lightning strikes the garage, surging through the power lines and blacking out the entire building. He doesn't see it, but two bright green eyes blink to life, cutting through the darkness. It takes a few steps forward, making a distinctive _clanking_ noise as it walks. It speaks.

"Hello."

"WHAAH!"

Ratchet jumps back, caught off guard by the sudden new voice. He regains his breath, and asks the question that's been on his mind all day.

"What is it, Grim?"

"_That's your answer_."


	2. KillerMEME

Duty Calls: Sasha X Clank

Sasha Phyronix sleeps at a desk in her study, and the rising sun shines through the window. A sizeable amount of paperwork is clumsily piled in the right corner, and a nearby empty coffee cup lies at the left. There's a faint ring of dried coffee on the desk near it. She stirs, noticing her cell phone reflecting in the morning light. With blurred eyes, she picks it up, piecing together the story as she tries to wake up.

_Clank:_

_Hello, Sasha. I wished to make contact with you to make sure everything was all right. You left in quite the hurry last night. _

_Sent 10 hours ago_

She groans at the memory. The four of them, Ratchet, Talwyn, Clank, and she, were supposed to meet up to go on a double date. However, when they did, Sasha was given an urgent message that there were important political affairs that needed to be dealt with. The others understood, knowing that if it required the mayor's personal attention, it must have been important.

She hurried home, only to find that her young secretary had taken time off due to food poisoning. Without notifying the office. Considering this intern's track record, "food poisoning" probably translates to "got carried away at last night's college party". And so Sasha found herself neck deep in paperwork.

_Me: _

_Everything's fine here. I swear I'm going to have to replace that secretary though. Just have a lot to catch up on._

_Sent 9 hours ago_

_Clank: _

_That is good to hear. I will leave you to your work. Let me know if I can offer my assistance._

_Sent 9 hours ago_

Sasha managed to finish a bit of it, thanks to caffeine, but must have fallen asleep at her desk according to the cramp in her neck. She lets out a defeated sigh as she glances at the paperwork left, and gets up to shower.

A piece of toast here, a toothbrush there, and a quick change of clothes. Her usual, purple uniform is rejected in favor of a baggy white shirt and grey leggings, and her gold headband is removed as well. It's not like she's expecting visitors today anyway, so might as well dress comfortably.

Just as the thought enters her mind, there's a gentle knock on the door. Of course.

She looks through the peephole, only to find nothing there. Confused, she turns away from the door. The stress must have gotten to her worse than she thought. As she steps away towards the kitchen for that toast she left on the counter, there's a voice.

"It is me, Sasha."

_Oh crap. Why him? Why now_, with toast crumbs on her face and no proper clothing? But she can't turn him away now, and she can't deny that she would like his company.

"Oh, uh, hello Clank. I'll let you in."

The door opens, and Clank steps inside the living room. He looks at her with a smile on his face, and sits down on a simple couch. Sasha returns the smile, a bit embarrassed at the current situation.

"Sorry I haven't had the chance to freshen up, I just woke up thirty minutes ago."

"It is all right, Sasha. I do not mind your current appearance at all. My concerns are elsewhere at the moment."

Clank focuses on her, scanning her. Sasha's face burns at the words._ I do not mind your appearance._ Her heart warms at the thought. She's in her most comfortable, her most private mode of herself, and Clank _doesn't mind_. No makeup, no uniform, no decorations. _Just Sasha_.

A moment passes, and he speaks up. There's a worried look on his face.

"I assume you did not sleep well last night? That work must have taken a toll on you."

Sasha's face drops a bit. Her exhaustion must be pretty noticeable. _Maybe I can play this off?_

"Yeah, there was certainly a lot of it. I've been working on it though."

"Have you made substantial progress?"

"I'm about halfway through."

"Do you recall that I can detect the lie in your voice? Please be honest with me."

A defeated sigh, and a quick correction. She really _can't_ lie to him, regardless of that ability of his. She drops herself on the couch next to him, and the black cloth cradles her back.

"About a fourth of the way through. I thought I could go through it quicker, but I must have been more tired than I thought."

"Perhaps I could offer my assistance? I do not mind spending time with you, regardless of the activity."

"I'd like the company, sure. What about Ratchet and Talwyn, are they upset?"

"About last night? No. They encouraged me to visit you this morning."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes, in his own teasing words,"

Clank stands, pressing a button on his chest, and an audio recording plays.

"_Come on, pal, go check on her. You know you want to."_

Sasha smiles. She can practically hear the smug grin that must have been on Ratchet's face. Clank cuts off the recording, bringing his attention back to the present. He jumps off of the couch, taking a step towards her office. Offering his hand to Sasha, He turns toward her.

"So, shall we finish your task together?"

Sasha gives a warm smile, grateful for the little robot and everything he does for her.

"I'd like that."

…

Hours later, the mountain of intimidating bureaucratic nonsense is reduced to neatly organized stacks, placed in the proper channels and ready to be passed on to wherever they need to go. Sasha leans back in her chair, and Clank sits at her side in his own.

"Thanks again, Clank. I don't know what I'd do without you. I want to do the best I can, but there's only so much one person can do."

"You may have important duties as mayor, but I do not mind offering my assistance if you need it."

Making eye contact, he continues as he takes Sasha's hand.

"I will always be there for you, Sasha, in both matters of business and personal affairs."

The metal hand around her own gives a comforting squeeze.

"That is my duty to you."


	3. Flowerstar

Back Troubles

The markets of Veldin are particularly busy, and the scalding sun beats down on the residents. Ratchet walks the streets with a limp in his step and a twitch in his tail. If there was any day that he would rather be at home on the couch, it's today for sure. Too bad it's never that easy.

"Ratchet, are you sure that you are up to finishing this project today?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I promised that lady that I would finish her star cruiser today. It's already a day behind schedule 'cause the flux converter blew up on me. Would have bought one yesterday if they weren't closed."

Clank taps on Ratchet's shoulder twice from his usual perch, the standard protocol for whenever one needs the other's full attention.

"Ratchet, you are in obvious pain. Please return home and rest. I will purchase the necessary part and follow after you."

"I appreciate the offer, and I'd normally take it, but not today. It's way too busy here, and I'm not gonna let you get trampled or something just because of my back. It's as big as you anyway, and you might not be able to carry it."

Clank disengages the latch on Ratchet's harness, and walks ahead into the shop.

"At the very least, allow me to walk on my own. The reduced weight may improve your condition."

"Alright, if you insist."

...

Ratchet stands by a perfectly restored ship, a week-long project finally brought to an end. His work shirt and pants are stained with oil and a bit of soot, giving a small glimpse of the trouble the thing gave him. The owner of the blasted thing arrives a few minutes before closing time to take it off of his hands. At least she's a bit nicer than her ship.

"That should do it, just bring it back if it gives you any more trouble. Sorry it's a bit late."

"I will, thank you! And don't worry about the delay. It's best to have this sort of thing done right by a professional than done quick. Most guys around here just give it a temp fix to keep you coming and take your money."

Ratchet looks away, a hand reflexively scratching the base of his ear. Qwark may be quick to take credit for his hero work, and most people see beyond the lies, but it's nice to get direct recognition for his handiwork.

"I wouldn't call myself a pro, but thanks anyway."

"Thank you again, Ratchet. For everything you and Clank do. Take care!"

After paying, the customer drives off into the sunset. Clank watches from a nearby chair as Ratchet closes the garage door, his body moving with a bit more stiffness than usual. After his task is complete, Ratchet moves to another room to change into cleaner clothes, talking as he walks. He emerges from the room in a baggy shirt and sweatpants.

"Thank the stars that one's over. Man, I'm tired."

"You seem to be quite exhausted, and still in a lot of pain. Are you certain that you did not pull something, or is your discomfort of the usual source?"

Ratchet stops and looks at Clank, stretching a bit. Mid stretch, however, his body stiffens, a sudden burst of pain spreading through his spine. A reflex shoots his arm to the wall, using it for support. His eyes clamp shut as his spine locks up.

"Ow, maybe? It's just been killing me today, more than usual..._Wow_, I sound kinda old saying it like that."

"Back problems are quite common for someone in your line of work. You have been a hero since you were quite young, and a mechanic for longer than I have existed."

Clank drops from his chair as he continues, placing the completed parts checklist on the nearby desk.

"For the record, Ratchet, you are still in your twenties, and still quite young. Do you need assistance?"

Ratchet slowly distances himself from the wall, and takes a step forward. He locks up from neck to tail, and lets out a hiss of pain.

"Yeah..Help me out, pal?"

"Certainly."

Clank takes Ratchet's hand, supporting him the best he can as Ratchet lies down for a bit. One by one, Clank lifts and stretches his legs to relieve some of the built up tension in his friend's spine.

Discomfort paints Ratchet's face for a moment with each leg, but the pain lessens after it's done. He slowly leans up, the lower back pain dealt with for the most part.

"My scanners show that there are knots in the muscles of your back. Would you like me to remove them? It may reduce the pressure on your upper spine."

"Thanks Clank, I'd appreciate it, honestly."

Ratchet flips onto his stomach, letting Clank study where to start. He can actually hear the gears turning in his head. A metal hand applies light pressure to a spot below his right shoulder blade, earning an instant reaction.

"Geez, that hurts more than I thought it would. What _shot_ me?"

Clank smiles at the quip, letting out that giggle of his.

"Many things over many years, my friend."

Ratchet laughs along, the massage melting the pain away. His light tone carries his joking well. He raises an eyebrow and looks back at Clank.

"I guess you're right about that. Carrying _you_ around all the time doesn't help either!"

Clank has learned a lot about social cues over the years, and picking up on Ratchet's humor is a specialty of his.

"My body is less than twenty pounds. Perhaps it is carrying around all those heavy weapons that has placed strain there."

As Clank works out the kinks in his back, Ratchet's face and ears perk up in pride.

"Maybe, but that just means my upper arm strength is awesome!"

"Do not dive too deeply into your own head, Ratchet. You may end up like Captain Qwark!"

Ratchet puts on an exaggerated face of shock, audibly and dramatically gasping at the claim.

"_Me?_ Let my ego get the best of me? _Never._"

The two laugh, continuing their jokes. A few minutes later, Ratchet is sound asleep. Muffled snoring fills the room, and Clank gently shakes Ratchet.

"Ratchet."

Ratchet awakens a bit, his voice groggy. Blurred eyes stare at Clank, and his words are a bit slurred.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Always puts me out.."

"I can see that. Can you move to your bed or the couch? Your body would likely disagree with sleeping on the floor."

Ratchet nods, shuffling to his feet. He feels worlds better, and if he wasn't so tired, he'd probably feel up to tinkering in the garage or playing holo games. Whether it's after a drawn out gunfight, a hologame marathon, or a day at the garage, his bed is always a welcome sight. He curls up onto the mattress, grabbing a thin throw blanket that was folded on top of it. In an instant, his eyes are already fighting to stay open.

"Thanks, Clank. For everythin'...G'night.."

Snoring fills the room again, not quite as muffled as before. Clank stands in the doorway of the bedroom and turns out the light. He makes a mental note to see a doctor in the morning. Ratchet would definitely benefit from some pain medication or muscle relaxers. Or both.

"Sleep well, Ratchet."


	4. Discord Chats

Girls' Night Out

"Hell no, Qwark."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I'm not getting caught _dead_ in that getup."

Qwark places a box of makeup, wigs, and clothing at his feet, holding in his hands a silky black dress. This disguise trunk just so happens to be a crucial part of the current mission. He claims to have made some questionable business deals a few days ago, and long story short, a nearby club has important documents that need to be recovered as soon as possible.

"Come on, you'd look great in it! Besides, I _really_ need that file. You and Clank are the only ones who can help me!"

Annoyed, Ratchet raises an eyebrow at the suggestion.

"Why don't you just get it yourself? It's not like you've never been in there before."

"Because there might be guards around the safe. As great of a hero as I am, it never hurts to bring along my favorite sidekicks for a good old fashioned breaking and entering!"

Unimpressed with the reasoning, Ratchet rolls his eyes. A flick of the wrist brings his hand to his sinuses to fight the oncoming migraine. A sigh escapes him.

"So you called us to be party guests for a _ladies only club_, just so you could get some secret file back?"

Qwark's face lights up, and he nods excitedly.

"Yeah, now you've got it!"

Ratchet shrugs, Clank's reminder from earlier ringing in his head. _It may be easier to simply play along with this one, Ratchet. It is only for one night, after all._

"Even if I agree to wear that thing, there's no way it'll be believable. Female lombaxes _don't have tails_."

"Lombaxes are so rare, hardly anyone knows that for sure. Anyway, I brought this!"

Qwark digs into the chest to reveal a kind of girdle that would go underneath the dress.

"..._What_?"

"So you can go around without showing your tail!"

Ratchet opens his mouth to object, to point out how utterly stupid the idea is, but is quickly cut off.

"And before you ask, I have voice changers too! It's foolproof, Ratchet! So, what do you think?"

Ratchet certainly has _a lot of things_ to think, but refrains from saying them out loud.

…

The cab brings the trio outside of _The Sassy Minx_, and the thump of the club's music is muffled by thick walls. The passengers step out of the vehicle one by one, taking in the cool night air.

First is Shannon, a broad shouldered woman in a silver ombré dress with sequins. The sleeves stop at her wrists, and she wears a gold necklace. The caduceus symbol dangles from the matching chain. Her makeup is thick, but not grossly so, and complete with lipstick as fiery as her hair. Her heels are elegant, and just as sparkly as the dress.

Next is Kathryn, a small robot with a soft lavender dress. The large ruffles that adorn the sleeves and top could only be described as 'absolutely adorable'. The cloth itself is covered with small, silver polka dots. A simple gold bracelet is worn around her left wrist. She steps forward to wait for the final member of the group.

Roxanne steps out with a bit of stiffness to her step. The black dress from before is seen in its entirety now, the material hugging her body. There's a sash at the waist that ties into a knot at the front, and the left side of the skirt is slit to her lower thigh. Her blond hair, highlighted with chestnut strips, drapes around her shoulders over the v neck of the cloth. She wears simple black flats instead of heels despite Shannon's wishes otherwise. She mumbles to her smaller companion, so that only she can hear.

"_I can't wait to get out of this thing. It's like Dreadzone all over again. I hate my tail being crammed into me._"

"_I am sorry that you must relive such unpleasant memories. Have patience. It is only for a few hours, then it will be over._"

"_I hope you're right, pal. I just hope these disguises actually work._"

Shannon walks toward the _Minx_, gesturing for her guests to follow.

"Come on girls, let's get inside!"

Roxanne grits her teeth in embarrassment, and slowly walks forward with Katherine.

"_I'm gonna kill him, I swear it._"

"Oh hush, _Roxanne_. Hehehe!"

The group heads to the door, showing themselves to the bouncer and gaining access to the building. The pumping music suddenly skyrockets in strength and volume, making Roxanne's ears ring for a moment to adjust. The punch bowl seems an appropriate place to scope out the area, so Roxanne leads the group there. Shannon drops to her level, pointing towards the dance floor. She speaks over the music as best she can.

"Let's get ourselves comfortable, blend with the crowd. Oh! There's a familiar face. I'll go introduce you two!"

"No, stop!"

"I believe it is too late. She is already out of earshot."

Through gritted teeth, Roxanne gestures for her companion to return to the group.

"Shannon, get back here! We're not here to goof off!"

The only answer she gets is an excited wave with the new face Shannon joined. The girl giggles, and start moving towards the lombax and robot.

"Oh dear, we have company."

"Great, _end me now._"

The young patron, a cazar woman in an elegant red dress, steps forward.

"Hey there, what are your names? Shannon talks a good game about you two, but I haven't seen you around."

"Well, I, uhh…"

"My name is Katherine, and this is Roxanne. We are here to escort Shannon to this party, but we are new to this part of town. What is your name miss?"

"Oh, I'm Lily. It's nice to meet you, Katherine, _Roxanne._"

As she shakes their hands with each name, the second handshake lingers a bit longer than the first. The last name is almost purred out, and Roxanne is flattered, but too stunned to respond. _Does she know I'm...? No, she couldn't._._Is she..flirting with me?_ It must be evident in her face, as Lily giggles at the sight. She turns away with a wink in her eye.

"I'll be on the dance floor, but I hope I'll see you around."

Lily walks away with a swing in her hips, and Roxanne stands in shocked silence. Shannon places a hand on her shoulder in pride, snapping her out of her self induced trance.

"I _told _you! You look great! Look at you, picking up dates already."

Shannon wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, and Roxanne shoves the arm off.

"Oh, can it. I'm already dating someone, you know that. Let's just..get what we came for."

Women are certainly the strangest creatures Roxanne's ever known, and she'll never quite understand them.

After a few moments of careful planning between the lombax and robot, Shannon slips a handful of bolts to the dj. She pulls her companions to the center of the room. The sequins of her dress catch the colored lights as she begins to dance, her large hip swings being too dangerous to stand close to.

"Come on, you two! Loosen up! Have fun! Go crazy!"

Katherine leans toward Roxanne, speaking lowly.

"_We will look suspicious if we refuse. That would compromise the mission."_

A defeated sigh escapes Roxanne's lips.

"_Ah, screw it."_

The music changes to an upbeat song commonly used in groovitrons. The women all hop, spin, and grind to the beat, and the electricity in the air moves with the bass. The crowd watches in awe as Shannon takes the spotlight. Katherine uses the distraction to carefully pull her lombax friend from the dance floor, pointing at the door to the main office. A nod of understanding, and the two walk towards their original goal.

The reflective panels in the back walls catch Roxanne's attention, and she gets a good look at herself for the first time that night. Her body is accentuated by the form fitting cloth, revealing a figure that she never noticed before. A lifetime of preferring slightly baggy pants certainly does that. She allows a smile to spread across her face.

_Huh, the more you know I guess. I actually do look pretty great._

"Black is certainly your color."

The robotic voice brings Roxanne back to the task at hand as embarrassment takes over.

"Let's just..keep this between us, okay?"

"Of course."

…

Later on that night, the Q-Force gathers in one of Qwark's summer home bedrooms to store the file safe and sound. As Qwark carefully hangs his dress in his closet, he turns to Clank.

"So, did you get it? You got it, right?"

"The file in question is right here."

Clank removes the documents from his chest compartment, handing them to Qwark.

"I can't thank you two enough. I may not be president anymore, but I can't let this stuff fall into the wrong hands. It's confidential stuff!"

The shuffling from behind the bathroom door ceases, and Ratchet emerges wearing his standard clothing. His tail flicks, as if it's more than happy to be exposed again.

"Man, that's better. That thing underneath the dress was way too tight."

"They're supposed to be, Ratchet! It's so the ladies can _smooth out_ their curves, so it has to be tight."

Qwark's hands move in an hourglass shape with his words. He clears his throat, and continues the conversation.

"Anyways, the _Sassy Minx_ is great, right?"

"I, for one, was quite fascinated to experience such an establishment in the first place. It is a piece of life that, as men, is normally impossible for us to see. Would you agree, Ratchet?"

Clank turns to Ratchet, who holds a carefully folded dress in his arms.

"Ya know, Clank, I guess it _is _pretty cool when you say it like that."

Qwark loudly gasps at the words, his eyes lighting up again.

"So that means you two would go again? Just to hang out?"

Ratchet smirks a bit, looking away from the man practically begging for another round of clubbing.

"Don't push your luck, Qwark."

…

Weeks later, Clank goes through the closets in his mission to keep their living space clean. Opening Ratchet's reveals the little black dress. It's hung towards the back of the closet, but wrapped in a protective plastic.


	5. Very First Oneshot (32019)

Observations

"_When this is over, I'll back whatever decision you make."_ This is it; the end of the road. As the general's ship leaves behind the ruins of Nefarious's space station, that very promise echoes in Clank's mind. The soft hums and beeps of the starship's controls mingle with the subtle breathing of the two organics, the only sound reaching his audio receptors. The robot looks out the window, watching the stars fly by, then turns his attention towards the lombaxes, hoping to piece together the thoughts neither would dare to express. First off, the pilot. _"This is General Azimuth. He's been helping me look for you!"_ The general seems tense, as if he is alert to some unseen danger, or preparing for something. What that 'something' was, Clank isn't sure. After the three of them discussed the Clock's limitations, he and Ratchet walked towards Aphelion, determined to stop Nefarious. In response, Azimuth turned to his own ship without another word after being rejected by Ratchet. On the other hand, the general rescued them from certain death when the space station was seconds away from exploding. Clank is, of course, grateful for everyone to be alive, but he can't quite shake this feeling that something is...off about this behavior._ Why would Azimuth return after being denied the Clock? Perhaps I should ask him about his intentions after we land._

Turning his attention to his dear friend gives Clank another feeling entirely. In this rare moment of calm, only now does he have the time to assess Ratchet's condition. His friend is leaning back on his seat, staring through the top of the ship into the sky. He's clearly exhausted, and desperately trying to relax. _That is not unusual, considering all that he has encountered recently. He has been fighting the Agorians, the Valkyries, and Nefarious himself, and that is not considering what he faced to find me._ Clank's mind held onto that thought. Being in stasis from the beginning, the robot had no idea how long Ratchet actually searched. _How long __**did**__ Ratchet have to search to find me?_ A closer look at his face gives a vague, concerning answer. Underneath the fur beneath his eyes, there are clear purple rings underneath them. There's this distant look in his eyes, as if something is eating away at his mind. It's an expression that Clank has only seen a few times before in his life, most notably after the showdown with Tachyon. The cragmite's claim of knowing Ratchet's 'true purpose' hit a deep nerve, and it was up to Clank to restore his friend's confidence. Inspired by the memory, a small metal hand slowly reaches out towards an armored shoulder, and a gloved hand meets it in return. Ratchet turns towards Clank, giving a small smile. The hiss and click of the landing gears flicks both lombaxes' ears and snaps Ratchet's attention away. As the cockpit opens and everyone touches solid ground, Clank's processors stick to a worrying observation: _That distant look has not left his eyes.  
_

(The first oneshot I ever wrote, way back in March 2019. I've come a long way, and I have all my readers and friends to thank for it.)


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